"Vulge?" said Adolf with a worried expression. "Verdammt, I hope he is still alive."

"Let's see," said Knocker. Inside the doorway they found the body of the major-domo. Blood stained the whiteness of the carpet, blood already turning brown.

"Wait a minute," Knocker whistled through his teeth. "Look!"

In the sitting-room of the Headquarters lay several Rumbles, their bodies contorted, their fur singed. Both Borribles sniffed the air and looked at each other.

"Electrics," said Adolf, "nasty dangerous stuff."

"Don't touch the bodies," said Knocker and he went to the door. Here he and Adolf found more Rumbles, all scorched and twisted and all of them dead.

"This must be the elite guard," said Knocker, "look at their uniforms, their weapons."

"They lead to that door over there," said Adolf, gesturing with his catapult.

"Do you notice how they are all touching each other?" said Knocker, and with the butt end of his lance he bashed the door free from the charred paw of the first in the line of electrocuted bodyguards. Inside the bathroom the wires attached to the handle told their own story. The first warrior to arrive on the scene had tried the door and died. Another had attempted to pull his comrade from the handle and he had died. Many had perished in this manner, their bodies soldered together, their fur crisp. Then the door had been broken down, but there were dozens more bodies in the bathroom, electrocuted on the threshold, knocked down by stones as they crossed the room, or stabbed as they had attempted to storm Vulge's little barricade. The room was a shambles.

"Oh, verdammt, " said Adolf reverently, "what a scrapper, that Vulge. Who would have guessed that such a little Borrible had so much courage in him?"

The trail of bodies led across the room and up to the very edge of the bath. At the bottom of the steps half a dozen of the bodyguard lay in a heap. There had been a terrific battle waged in this bathroom but there was no sign of the Stepney Borrible.

Knocker scrambled over the bodies and the barricade and discovered the half-submerged form of the Rumble Chieftain.

"He got him," he shouted. "Vulge got his name."

"Posthumously, I should think," said the German sadly.

"Wait," said Knocker, "I can see his foot." And it was true. Sticking out from under the pile of Rumble bodies was a Borrible foot. Knocker and Adolf pulled the corpses aside and underneath everything lay a pathetically frail Borrible holding a knife in one hand and the broken barb of a lance in the other. They knelt beside him.

"Has he gone?" asked Knocker.

Adolf put his head to Vulge's chest. "No," he said. "I can hear his heart."

Tenderly they raised the Stepney Borrible into a sitting position and rubbed his hands and his cheeks. Vulge's eyes flickered and then opened weakly. He was covered in blood, though most of it was not his own. He licked his lips. "Trust you to get here when it was all over," he said and he tried to grin. "Get me something to drink."

Adolf returned in an instant with a jade tooth-mug full of cold water and Vulge drank it greedily. "That's better," he said, looking round the room. " Pretty good fight it was," he added, "but you'd better get out of here. With those bells and alarms going the tunnels will be solid with Rumbles."

"Okay," said Knocker, "We're going. I've just got something to do first. Adolf, watch the door."

Vulge grabbed Knocker's arm. "Give me one of your bandoliers," he said, "I feel lonely without a few stones."

Knocker slipped a bandolier over his head, retrieved a catapult from the floor and handed them to Vulge. "There you are," he said. "Leave some Rumbles for us, won't you."

Knocker left the bathroom and passed into a large study. It was an inner sanctum, different from the main office, more private and intimate. Here there was just a bare desk, some books and a watercolour of the Rumbledom countryside on the wall. Knocker flung the picture to the floor and found what he had been hoping to find—a large safe. He looked at it, baffled. The safe was firmly closed and there was a complicated combination lock on the outside. He fiddled with it, listened to it, pulled the large brass handle, but the safe door would not budge. He ran back to the bathroom and shouted desperately to Adolf. "Dammit, I can't get the safe open. We're snookered."

The German bobbed his head round the door he was guarding. "A safe," he cried, "is that all? Did I not tell you how I got my third name, Amadeus? By stealing diamonds from the most renowned burglar in all of Austria. You come and watch. I will persuade your safe to be friendly."

In a moment Adolf had his ear pressed against the door of the safe and his nimble fingers were twiddling with the lock. There was a click, then another and another until there was a click that sounded more definite than all the rest and Adolf's eyes glowed like the jackpot lights on a fruit-machine. He seized the handle with both hands and pulled open the massive steel door.

"Bull's-eye," he cried. "Oh, verdammt! I haven't lost my touch."

Knocker gazed into the safe and saw a large brass-bound box. "You must be the best safe-cracker in the whole world," he said, "Adolf Wolfgang Amadeus Winston !"

"Danke," said the German, "I am proud of my new name and will enjoy telling how I earned it—if we ever get out of here."

They pulled the box from the safe and it thumped to the floor. Knocker flung back the lid and sat back on his heels in amazement. It was full to the top with crisp notes of the realm.

"I'll be jiggered," he said, "there's a fortune here."

"No good if you can't get it out," said Adolf.

"Wait," said Knocker, seizing the German's shoulder, "it will need two of us to carry this. We'll have to leave Vulge behind."

Adolf stood up, his face angry. "You may do what you wish," he said. "I am taking Vulge."

Knocker faced his friend, his mouth tight. "The whole point of the expedition is that money. I have strict orders to get the box out. Vulge has taken his chances like the rest of us. Why, he's half dead already."

"And half of him is worth all of you, Knocker, and the money too," cried Adolf and he kicked the lid of the box so that it closed with a crash.

"This money," said Knocker, lowering his voice, "could change life for thousands of Borribles. It's important, more important than any one of us, that's why Spiff wanted me to get it home, no matter what."

"Who cares about your Spiff. I don't want my life changed," said Adolf passionately, "nor do other Borribles. The lives I care about at this moment are my life and Vulge's life, and yours if you will stop being stupid."

Knocker hesitated. He knew that what the German said made sense, but there were other considerations.

"Vulge got his name by a valiant battle," he argued. "You were destined to open the safe, my part is to take this money out of here and win my name that way. Can't you see that?"

"I see it," said Adolf, "but it doesn't mean I have to look at it. You carry the money if you can, I will carry Vulge if I can; the rest is chance. Let us remain friends though we differ. I like stealing too you know, but sometimes other things come first."

Just then there was a yell from Vulge in the bathroom. Both Borribles grasped their catapults and loading them as they moved they dashed through the door.

Two Rumbles armed with stickers were coming into the room, a third lay stunned in the entrance. Vulge was reloading his catapult. A Rumble threw his sticker at Adolf who side-stepped it with ease and the spear thudded into the wall. Knocker fired, Adolf fired and both Rumbles fell. It became quiet and Adolf went to the door to look out. "Only those three," he said, "but others will be coming. Let's go." He crossed the room and knelt beside Vulge. "You're coming with me, my friend," he said. "I will give you a fireman's lift. It will be painful but safer than staying here."

"You can't take me," grimaced the wounded Borrible. "Leave me another bandolier, and I'll do for a few more."

"Rubbish," laughed the German, "are you content to die with only one name?"

Vulge wagged his head in the old way of his. "Go on then, idiot. 'It is madness to quarrel with a madman'."

Adolf ignored the proverb, hoisted his wounded comrade up and carried him towards the door. Knocker meanwhile ran back into the inner sanctum and lifted the box onto his shoulders with a supreme effort. "With both of us laden like this," thought Knocker, "there is very little chance of us getting out. Adolf was right, but then so am I. We will just have to play it by ear."

Their progress was slow and awkward. They stopped frequently to rest and Vulge was in great pain, though he said nothing.

The lighting system had obviously suffered serious damage, for the lights often went out. Bells and sirens clanged and wailed as the general alarm spread through the maze of corridors, and shouts and calls could be heard echoing from side tunnels. Something somewhere was burning and smoke was beginning to drift by, sucked along by the ventilation fans. Steam from the cauldrons left boiling in the kitchens lent an acrid smell to the atmosphere, and the temperature in the Bunker was rising fast.

The fugitives encountered several dazed and panic-stricken bands of Rumbles but they were not trained warriors and a show of belligerence was enough to make them sheer off. But every time they passed a branch corridor Rumbles issued from it noiselessly on their padded feet and followed at a safe distance, waiting for the right moment to pounce and bear down upon the Adventurers.

"I must rest," said Knocker for the fifth time. "Money weighs you down."

"I too could rest," said Adolf panting, and he lowered Vulge to the floor.

"How are you, my friend?" asked the German.

Vulge was near to fainting with pain but he said, "Mustn't grumble. Got to keep going till you can't go any more, isn't it?"

They had stopped by the entrance to a dark branch corridor and suddenly two figures leapt out with a cry, brandishing lances. Adolf and Knocker stepped back and reached for their weapons but then held their hands. Before them stood Bingo and Orococco, fresh and alert.